O, a
Chuck-Will's-Widow
Is a good fine fellow
The antithesis
Of things that hiss
An aerial St. Patrick
The goat-sucking hattrick
O my call you'll miss
If you've gone to piss
O, and
You can't shut me up
You'll have to gore me with that lifted pickup truck
O, I won't go down without a fight
We'll trap you, us jars of the night
O, I
Hide in plain sight
Aversive to the light
Perfectly crepuscular
Twilight buckler
O, please don't step on me
I know you can't see
But your boots will hurt
I'm such a little bird
O, and
You can't shut me up
You'll have to gore me with that lifted pickup truck
O, I won't go down without a fight
We'll trap you, us jars of the night